He chuckles into the phone, and the sound of it warms me from the inside out. “I would love nothing more.”
“Fantastic. I’m going to meet you at your apartment and we can go from there.”
“You don’t want me to pick you up?”
I laugh. “No. If Riley sees you, he won’t let us leave. He thinks you’re the bomb right now.”
“Alright, I’m looking forward to that knock on my door.”
“See you then,” I say, my chest swelling in anticipation. I can’t wait to see him again.
“See you then, sweetheart.”
* * *
Brad
It’s a nervous day waiting for that moment when my door sounds with a knock at 6pm. I’ve booked us a table in a little Italian place off George Street at seven.
Opening the door, I bite down on my lip appreciatively as my eyes travel over her from head to toe. She’s wearing her long chocolate brown hair out, and it falls in stylised waves over her shoulders, sitting gently against her milky skin. On top, she’s wearing a sleeveless silk blouse that has pearl buttons up the front of it. She’s left the top one open so I can see the delicate silver chain she’s wearing but the rest is up to my imagination. On the bottom, she’s wearing a bronze coloured skirt that hugs her figure and flares out slightly at the base just above her knee, and there’s this fabric bow that ties about her waist that my fingers are itching to tug on just to see if it opens. On her feet, she wears a pair of patent leather peep toe heels that make her at least three inches taller so she almost meets my eyes.
“You. Are a beautiful woman, Dakota,” I tell her in appreciation.
“I’m glad you like,” she says with a smile, and I invite her in by taking her by the hand and urging her inside.
“I want to kiss you but I don’t want to ruin your makeup,” I murmur, as she stands against me.
“I brought extra,” she whispers, tilting her chin upward. I smile then lean down to meet her mouth, gently sucking on her lips before wrapping my arms around her waist and pulling her against me. The kiss deepens, our tongues sliding against each other, investigating every corner of our mouths. She tastes like mint and smells clean and fresh, and my body responds by craving for more. So I stop, even though she seems to want to keep going.
My hands grip her waist, and I drop my forehead against hers, my chest heaving, every molecule in my body screaming for this woman–my mate.
“Can I get you a drink?” I ask, forcing myself to step just a little further away. She slips her hand in mine.
“I should say yes. But what I’d really like is to keep kissing you. Is that a little too high school?”
I turn to her and lightly brush my fingers along her jawline, loving the way she leans into my touch. “I’d love that but I think I need a moment to calm down. That was quite a kiss, sweetheart.”
“I love it when you call me sweetheart.”
I smile. “Well then, sweetheart, humour me and say yes to the drink. Our reservation is at seven, and I promise to kiss you often throughout the night, but just give me a moment’s pause to regain my control. You’re the only woman I’ve ever felt this strongly about, and just having you alone is…” I let out my breath. “Do you understand how stunning you are?”
“I’m beginning to get the idea,” she whispers.
I take her hand again and lead her toward my bar. “What’ll it be?” I ask.
Her eyes scan over the well-stocked glass shelves that affix onto a dark panelled wall with down lighting to give it an authentic feel. Then she slides onto one of the metal stools that line the other side. “What do you recommend?”
“Well I make a pretty epic apple martini.”
“Sounds perfect.”
She watches as I mix the drinks. “Where’s Ruby?”
“She moved back to her place.”
“What about the guy who beat on her?”
“For now, he’s out on bail. But there’s a restraining order, and from what she’s said, he hasn’t tried to make contact with her. I told her she’s always welcome to use the spare room if she needs to.”
“Well, I hope she takes you up on that if she feels frightened.”
“It wouldn’t bother you if she was staying here again?”
“Is there anything going on between you two?”
“No. We’ve only ever been friends.”
“Then what’s there to worry about?”
I pour our drinks in martini glasses and hand one to her. “I think we should toast,” I suggest.
She leans forward and holds her glass up. “What to?”
I think for a moment. “To second chances.”
“To second chances,” she says, tapping her glass against mine before taking a sip and humming to signal she enjoys the taste. “This is ridiculously delicious.”
“Would you like to drink it on the balcony?”
“There’s a balcony?”
“Of course.” I laugh, as I take her hand and lead her out through the glass door that looks more like another panel in the floor to ceiling window that spans one entire side of my apartment. Through it, we can see the entire Botanical Gardens and part of the harbour as well.
We place our glasses on the ledge that runs along the rails of the balcony, and I watch her serene expression as she looks out over the view and lets out her breath. “This is beautiful. I think if I lived here, I’d be out here all the time.”
“I was when I first moved in. It’s a bit of a change from Aunt Sara’s place.”
“Yes. It was a nice house though. We have some good memories there.” She lays her head on my shoulder, and I slide my arm around her waist.
“I still own it. It’s empty though right now. I had it as a rental, but it’s getting old so we vacated it to make repairs. It’s a long process, probably would have been cheaper to tear it down and start again. But…”
“It’s special.”
“It is.”
“Do you think you’ll ever live in it again?”
“I don’t know. For the last few years, I really haven’t been thinking I was going to do the whole wife and kids thing, so an apartment in the city seemed to make sense, because my life was my work.”
“Didn’t you think you’d find someone?”
“Well, I had found someone and she was gone. And I never got that feeling again around another woman. So, I kind of gave up looking… I’m sorry, I shouldn’t talk about other women with you.”
“It’s OK. I honestly expected that you’d be married by now, or at least in a serious relationship. I didn’t expect that your feelings would stay the same toward me.”
“Love doesn’t fade, Cody. It gets put on hold and pushed to the side at times, but it never fades. Not the real thing anyway.”
“Do you think that’s what we have? The real thing?”
“Don’t you?”
She lifts her head from my shoulder and turns to face me, her eyes moving between mine, studying my face. “For me, there’s never been anyone but you. Not when I was growing up and not in the years that have gone past. You have been my one and only. There is no doubt in my mind, and I trust you above all men. You’re the only one who’s ever shown both care and respect.”
Sliding my hands around her waist, I pull her closer and take her mouth in mine. She responds immediately, letting out a delicate hum as she reaches up and wraps her arms around my neck, and slides her fingers in my hair. I let her need guide our embrace and the depth of the passion behind the kiss, being mindful not to push for anything more than she’s willing to give.
We stand there, with the cityscape below, the sounds of traffic and nightlife drifting up from the streets, and we make out like a couple of kids who don’t have a care in the world.
Our hands move gently over our clothes as our bodies heat. I’m doing so well until she presses against me just a little too hard, and the friction, well, let’s just say it got my attention.
I pull back. “OK,”
I pant. “OK. We’d better get going because our table…” I glance at my watch and realise it’s twenty past seven. “Shit.”
“What?” she asks, grabbing at my wrist to look at the watch then she covers her mouth and giggles. “We just made out for a whole hour. Who does that at our age?”
“Plenty of people, I’m sure. And I for one, rather enjoyed it–even if it did cause us to lose our table.”
“Perhaps we could just order in and eat here.”
“But you got all dressed up. The least I can do is take you out on the town and show you off.”
She steps toward me again and slides her hands over my chest, looking up at me with those big brown eyes that have always made me feel like I’ll agree to anything she wants.
“I got dressed up for you. I’m not interested in impressing anyone else.”
“I’d be interested in you if you were wearing a potato sack.”
“You know how to say all the right things,” she giggles then I take her back inside.
“I need to feed you,” I say, heading for the kitchen. But she stops me.
“No. We can call for delivery. You’re not cooking for me tonight.”
“Why? I have food. And from what I hear, I’m quite good at it.”
“Yes. But it’s your night off, and you cook for a living. Let’s just order Chinese, sit, talk, make out some more and see how we go?”
“See how we go, huh?”
“Yes,” she says, pulling me toward the couch, and of course I go with her. At this point, I’m willing to do whatever she wants.
Twenty-Five
Dakota
“Come out and paddle with me,” Stacey says, when I see her at the kayaking club the next day. “I want to hear all about your date.”
“I don’t have a suit,” I counter, waving my hands up and down to showcase the fact that I’m wearing my work uniform of a black skirt and a blue button up with the club emblem on the left.
“So borrow one of mine. I always have a spare. Come on, I have work later, and I need to train, so I have to fit gossip in somewhere.”
“How about I walk with you while you get ready?”
“Fine,” she says dramatically, and I let one of the other staff members know I’ll be back soon then step outside with her. “So, spill,” she urges.
I grin, remembering how wonderful it felt to be in his arms again. “It was amazing.”
“Amazing? So what? Did you, you know?”
I shake my head. “Not yet. We kissed and touched a little on the outside of clothes.”
She laughs. “It sounds like a couple of fifteen year olds,” she teases, making light of it all, which I appreciate because everyone is making such a big deal about me dating. It’s like they all think I’m made of glass and will shatter if a man comes near me. And my parents, especially, need to trust that I’m capable of deciding when and with whom I’m ready to be intimate.
With Stacey, it’s different; she talks to me about the men she’s with, and what sex is like with them in a very normal way. So in turn, she makes me feel as though I’m normal too, and the fact that I’m interested in sex after what happened isn’t something to be scared of. What happened to me was an attack. It was about power and oppression and fear. There was nothing intimate about it.
“Being with Brad was nice. It was beautiful. He told me before we started dating that he was going to let me call the shots, because he didn’t want me to think that I had to do anything before I was ready. And I don’t know, I do feel ready with him, I mean, he’s the guy, you know? I just don’t want to rush into all this because what if I do freak out? I mean, I only remember flashes of what happened in the attack, so I’m scared that going all the way may trigger some sort of memory that I really don’t want to face.”
“Well what happens in your head when you look after yourself?” she asks blatantly, when we reach the change rooms, where she puts her things in her locker, keeping only her water bottle, cap and sunglasses with her.
My cheeks burn. “Oh…I don’t…I don’t do that,” I stutter, feeling incredibly awkward in this conversation.
Her eyes almost pop out of her head. “Are you serious?” she practically shrieks, and I frantically wave my hands in front of her face and tell her to shush. And she begins to laugh at my reaction. “I can’t believe you’ve never done that! What have you been doing all these years?”
“Nothing,” I mumble, my cheeks burning even further.
Her mouth gapes open, and she now looks like a bug eyed fish. “Dakota Morgan! Self-love is the key to unlocking your body and your mind. It teaches you what feels good and what turns you on.”
I laugh. “You sound like a women’s magazine.”
“Well I’m right. Masturbation isn’t just for boys you know.”
My face is going to burn off. I look around as her voice carries through the open space of the boatshed as we walk toward her kayak.
“Would you stop yelling about it!” I hiss.
She lets out a chuckle, as she lifts the kayak off its perch. “Relax, there’s no one around, you worrywart. But seriously, Cody, I think you should try it. It will be good for you so you know what to expect when your mind goes to that place.”
“I wouldn’t know where to begin,” I admit.
She smiles at me. “Start with a bubble bath, get all relaxed and just…see what feels nice. You were with Brad once; I’m assuming he did more than just stick it in.”
My blush deepens. This is the most uncomfortable conversation of my life. “Well, yeah…”
She shrugs. “So do what he did. Trust me, you’ll see.”
We reach the pontoon, and she lowers her kayak off her shoulder and places it in the water.
“Maybe,” I say, as I wring my fingers in front of me. The thought of touching myself and getting caught scares the shit out of me. I’ve seen American Pie. There’s no way I want anything like that happening. It would be a nightmare. “I’d better head back up to the club.”
She nods, and I turn to walk back up the hill. “Hey Cody,” she calls out when I’m half way up. I stop and turn to face her. “Go home and touch yourself!”
“I’m going to kill you!” I yell back. But I’m laughing, and in the back of my mind, I’m seriously considering taking her advice.
* * *
Brad
“You’re looking like the happiest man on the planet. I’m assuming everything is going well with Dakota,” Ruby asks, when she arrives at work on Tuesday night. This is her first shift back with us, and her face is looking perfectly made up for work. If I didn’t know any better, I could probably imagine that nothing horrible has ever happened to her–her same smile and happy disposition is still there. It’s just that newfound pain behind her eyes–the knowledge that there’s a darkness in this world that preys upon women–that gives it away.
“It is. It’s been a long time coming, she and I.” I glance down at the chopping board, as I run my knife through a thick free-range chicken breast, slicing it into thin pieces to add to a marinade.
“Well, you work so hard. You deserve to be happy.”
I stop cutting and look up at her. “Work’s kind of the thing that’s making it hard at the moment. We both have a lot of time consuming commitments, so we’ve only seen each other a couple of times in the last few weeks.”
“That’s got to be hard. You should just skip to the moving in part. You’ve known how you feel about her for years. So it’s not like this is a new relationship, right?”
I shrug. “Right. But we’re not at that point yet. We have quite a way to go before that’s on the cards, and I don’t want to mess with her boy’s life too much just yet.”
“What’s he like? Have you met him?”
A smile spreads across my lips as I think about the barrage of energy and information Riley is. “He’s great–smart, funny–very much his mother’s son.”
She lets out a sigh. “I just admire her so much,” she muses.
Nodding, I change the subject. “And how about you? How’s that new roommate of yours? Coral isn’t it?”
“Yeah, Coral. She’s good. I think she misses London. But, she’s over here for a few months to see how things go with her boyfriend, Shane.”
“And what’s he like?”
She shrugs. “He’s nice enough. He’s just your typical Aussie bloke; he’s into surfing and eating more than anything. You’d probably like him.”
I laugh, as I return to my cutting. “I’ll have to stop by.”
“Well, you can come at any time. He practically lives there. He’s in a share house with three other guys, so they’re always at my place.”
Raising my brow, I look up at her. “Feeling a bit crowded?”
“Meh,” she shrugs. “I’m just used to living on my own. But it’s OK. She’s only here for three months.”
“You never know, it could be forever if they get married.”
“Don’t say that,” she laughs. “I need my space and my life back at some point.”
Twenty-Six
Dakota
I stand in front of the mirror as the bathtub fills, naked, except for the towel around my body that I’m clutching to my chest. For a moment, I close my eyes, my nerves flitting through my chest like a frightened butterfly. I remind myself that I’m alone. It’s Thursday. It’s my rostered day off. My parents are at work, and Riley is at school. On top of that, every door in the house is locked tight. No one is going to walk in on me.
Why is this so hard?
Releasing my breath, I open my eyes, willing my hand to open and drop my towel. This sounds crazy, but I Googled how to do this, and I found this whole website about empowering yourself with self-love. And there was actually a video where a woman explained how to create the right atmosphere so that you feel safe and able to relax. Then she gave tips on how to go about the experience.
Taste: Beautiful Series, Book 6 Page 10
